


The Body Electric

by LadyInGrey



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Angst and Humor, Body Horror, Family Drama, Gen, Species Dysphoria, Transformation, Yes it's one of those "The Spine becomes human" fics but bear with me for a little bit here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-29 16:37:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyInGrey/pseuds/LadyInGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strange occurrences are a signature feature of life at Walter Manor, but an automaton suddenly becoming human is a first. The situation is not helped by the fact that his body doesn't seem to be accepting the change very well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Curious Case of Mr. Walter

Peter A. Walter VI hadn't exactly been the same since his face became a swirling mass of multidimensional energy. Since returning from the hospital with that ridiculous mask, he'd bought a door for his room, locked it, and spent the past two weeks ordering a bizarre range of home decor items off of the internet.

“I think,” Rabbit said as he entered the kitchen with the latest purchase balanced on one arm. “Someone ought to talk to Petes.”

Annie Walter stood up from the table to take the package from the unstable robot and set it down on the counter, a soft sigh escaping. “I know, Rabbit. I've been begging him to come out of there, but he doesn't even acknowledge my knocking.”

“Well, that's probably because he has no idea what knocking on a door sounds like.” Walter Girl C piped in as she entered, moving straight to the coffee machine. Trailing right behind her was The Spine, who gave her an unsavoury glare.

“No one asked for your opinion on the matter, Miss Carolina.” he spoke, leaning his thin frame against the entrance. She just shrugged as she poured herself a cup.

“Sorry, big guy, I was just commenting on the office gossip,” she spooned in some sugar. “But I would definitely recommend having a tacky furniture purchase intervention soon, because as much as I love your charming personality, it's not enough to keep me around if my salary can't be paid.” she gave him her sweetest smile, which got an eye roll in return, and strode out. The Spine watched her over his shoulder as she left, eyebrows wrinkled in annoyance.

“Who hired her again?” he asked as he turned back. “Because I think we need to fire them for a gross lapse in judgement.” Annie frowned at him.

“Oh, stop it,” she said. “The two of you need to start playing nice or we'll be down an employee _and_ an automaton.” He opened his mouth to shoot back, but Rabbit quickly cut in.

“Sh-sh-she had a point, you know,” he tapped the box. “Petes is gonna drain the bank at some point if he keeps this up. I know he's all sad about bein' faceless and such, but we really gotta help him cope better.”

“I could try talking to him, if you'd like,” The Spine offered. “Or dispose of that door, at least.”

Annie smiled softly and patted him on the arm. “I'd appreciate that, dear, but don't push him too hard. He's in a bad place and right now, he just needs to know that we're here for him, alright?” The automaton nodded, and he could see her entire body relax just a little bit more. He was about to comment on it, tell her not to worry too badly, but was interrupted by a nervous sounding knock from the foyer. Rabbit gave an exasperated sigh.

“I'm comin'” he called, pulling himself away from the counter, quietly muttering to himself that his brother had better hurry up.

_________________________________________________

 

“What is Russia's drink of choice?”

As The Spine ascended the stairs, he was greeted with the slightly strange sight of Michael Reed sitting in front of Peter Walter VI's room, leaning his back against the door and reading from the newspaper.  
“Give up? It's Lenin-aide, hah, get it?” he forced a laugh, and Spine could have sworn he heard a groan from the other side.

“Mr. Reed,” he asked, causing Michael's head to snap up. “What are you doing, exactly.”

The mechanic smiled. “Oh, hey Spine! I'm reading Pete the Friday Funnies.”  
The robot raised an eyebrow. “Doesn't he hate those?” Michael nodded enthusiastically.

“Despises them, so I don't plan on stopping until he comes out here and makes me!” he said the last part louder, directing it to the door.

“I will fire you if you read one more of those crimes against humanity.” It was the first time Spine heard the youngest Walter in a while, and couldn’t help but feel a little relief that his vocal chords had remained intact after the accident.

Michael just laughed at the threat. “Sorry, Pete, but you can't do that! My contract says I'm here 'till death do us part.”

“That sounds more like a marriage licence than a contract.” The Spine remarked.

“Feels like one too.” Peter responded. Michael just grinned.

The automaton sighed as he leaned over the mechanic to knock on the door. “Peter, can I talk to you?”

“Sorry, the faceless horror is occupied at the moment, please leave a message at the beep.” he then proceeded to make a very convincing beep. The Spine, however, was not impressed, and frowned at Michael, who gave an apologetic shrug in response.

“You've been in there for two weeks,” he went on. “You've got to come out and eat something, at least, if only so you don't die.”

“That's a wonderful idea, Spine! Oh wait, I forgot, I don't have a mouth anymore!” Michael raised an eyebrow at the remark.

“But you're talking to us.” he said. Peter sighed from inside, and presumably slammed something on his desk.

“I'm not exactly in the mood to unravel the many mysteries of multicoloured matter, so I think I'll just go along with whatever curve balls it throws. Now, if you would be so kind as to move along...”

“Peter,” The Spine said again. “You can't keep this up. Everyone is worrying about you. I know you're upset right now-”  
“Michael,” Peter cut in. “It seems The Spine's auditory functions are on the fritz, could you take him down to the workshop and see what the problem is?”

“My functions are fine, don't try to change the to-” From inside, music began to play, a rock song on it's top volume. The robot took a step back, an annoyed expression on his face. “Mr. Reed,” he said quietly, gaze trained on the door. “Would you please move for a second?”

Not wanting the fury of a seven foot tall war machine directed at him, the mechanic quickly pulled himself up and away from Peter's room. The Spine gave him a nod in thanks, then clenched his fists. There was a hiss of hydraulics as he pulled his right arm back, and a thunderous _crack_ as he knocked the door straight off its hinges and to the floor of the youngest Walter's room. Peter quickly spun around in his desk chair to regard the entire scene in pure horror.

“What the hell, man!?” he shouted as the automaton casually stepped through the now vacant doorway while Michael peered inside from the hall, somewhere between shock and confusion.

The Spine adjusted his tie and brushed some stray bits of debris from his vest. “You've made it very clear that talking to you will be difficult, so I've decided to take a more...pragmatic approach.”


	2. Best Laid Plans

Peter sighed and shut off the music, folding his arms over his chest and tilting his head downwards, perhaps attempting to glower? It was the first time since returning from the hospital that The Spine had gotten a good look at him. He was a tall and lanky kid, always had been, with his mother's sandy coloured hair and dad's lively green eyes. Well, not so much the eyes anymore, as there was a wooden mask covering where they should have been, with a large keyhole cut into the front that pulsed an eerie blue, but everything else was just the same.  
“You're putting that back up,” the man said. “And you're going to get out of here.”

“Not until we talk, Peter.” he responded, taking another step towards him. The inventor leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest, and The Spine did his best to send a glare at whatever he was seeing out of.

After a few minutes of this, the inventor finally spoke. “Michael,” he started, not breaking his gaze on the robot. “Could you give us a minute?”

A nervous little cough escaped Michael's throat, and he nodded. “Sure, uh, I'll be back later, I guess.” he mumbled, quickly moving for the staircase. As his footsteps trailed off, Peter spoke again.

“What do you want?”

“We need to talk about your behaviour as of late,” The Spine responded. “You've been in here for two weeks doing nothing but ordering home decor items off of the internet. Care to explain?”

“My brush with death has caused me to develop a passion for furniture design.” he deadpanned. This caused the automaton to frown at him.

“I'm being serious, what on Earth have you been doing with all of this junk?” Peter sighed and looked away from him, giving a small shrug. The robot took a step closer. “We're your family, we just want to help.” The boy sighed, and if he'd still had eyes, was probably trying to look away.

“Okay...um...listen,” he started. “So...you know how I've always been into the occult and such?” This caused The Spine to automatically drop his stoic posture and roll his eyes.

“Again? Peter, we've talked about this a million times, the supernatural causes more problem than it solves. How do you think the evil chair became evil?”  
“Bad life choices?” The look the robot gave made it seem like the incorrect answer. “Okay, just, bear with me for a few minutes, please, Spine?” he pleaded. His mechanical friend sighed.

“Go on.” he said.

Peter looked as if he were embarrassed as he continued. “Well, when I was in the hospital, I kinda just thought, man, there's probably not a scientific way to fix this, why not try magic?”

“Because it's a terrible and ridiculous idea.” The Spine replied.

“Hey, no comments from the peanut gallery,” Peter shot back. “Save all sass until I've concluded, please and thank you.” The Spine sighed again, but let him continue. “So I started looking into what impossibilities would be the most, um, possible, prowled around chatrooms and stuff. I did the research, and wish-based magic is the most efficient solution I can currently afford. It's a little risky statistically, because you've really got to be careful with wording and such, but I've been working that out the past few weeks.”

The Spine raised an eyebrow. “And you just Googled all of this?”

“The internet is a strange and amazing place.” Peter put his hands behind his head and kicked his feet up on the desk.

“While I can't disagree, it still doesn't explain why you've been buying so much tacky furniture.”

“Aha, and that brings us to the grand conclusion!” he sang. “As you may know, Walter Robotics isn't exactly as profitable as it was back in it's heyday, so I had to figure out what the most cost effective way to go about this was. Well, it turns out the answer had been under our roof the whole time! Possessed furniture!” he concluded his schpeel by doing jazz hands, presumably for the dramatic effect, but got nothing but a blank stare from The Spine in return.

“...I'm sorry Peter, but I'm afraid you've lost me.”

The youngest Walter sighed and slumped back down in his seat. “Okay, I'll walk you through this, there's a whole sub-market of reasonably priced furniture that is inhabited by supernatural entities. A lot of them belong to the djinn species, which is kind of like the genie in _Aladdin_ , but more hip. As you may have guessed from my subtle pop culture reference, their main “trade” is granting wishes, which brings us back to my first point, you following?”

The automaton simply looked at him for a good minute before finally saying, “Peter, are you telling me you're going to try and get your face back by using genies trapped in junk you found on eBay?”

The inventor steeped his fingers. “When you say it like that, it sounds like this wasn't a meticulously planned out operation.”

An annoyed puff of steam seeped out from one of the smokestacks along the robot's back. “I'm not denying that, but it's still a terrible idea. Isn't one ugly, possessed piece of furniture enough for a house?”

“Risk assessment, Spine! In case one doesn't work, I gotta have some back-ups ready! Besides, the chair is possessed by an angry ghost, they don't grant wishes! Do your homework, man!” This got him a groan in return.

“Peter, you said it yourself, this is dangerous and none of us want you to get hurt.” The scientist's head lulled back, attempting an exaggerated eye-roll sans eyes.

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but I've been mapping this out for weeks, everything is under control.”

“You said the same thing about that blue matter rift inTemecula, which started this whole problem in the first place!” It came out a bit more harsh than The Spine had intended, and in response, Peter's posture became much more defensive. He sat up straight, resting his chin in his hands, and huffed.

“I knew it, I knew you were going to do this,” he grumbled. “You don't trust me. This is why I didn't tell anyone, you all treat me like I'm a child who's going to wreak the house when you aren't watching.”

“That's not at all-” the robot shot back, but the inventor cut him off, hopping out of his seat and jamming a finger at his chest.

“Oh, shut it! I don't need this negativity! I am the CEO of one of the most influential technology companies in the world and I will _not_ be told off by a walking jukebox!”

The Spine didn't react, simply regarding Peter with a look of pure apathy. “Walking jukebox? That's actually a new one,” he said. “And I can't disagree, but petty name calling isn't exactly helping this situation.”

Peter was fuming at this point, and made a snarl sound that was a little too realistic. “That's it, GET OUT!” he balled his fists and threw all his strength into a shove at the robot, who, predictably, didn't sway an inch.

“Could you not?” he asked as Peter made a second attempt.

“LEAVE!”

The automaton sighed. “Alright, but we're going to talk this over again when you've calmed down.”

“Yes, okay, fine, just GO!” The Spine took a step back as Peter swung his fist again, causing the young inventor to stumble. “And put the damn door back up!”

The Spine rolled his eyes, but leaned the door back on its frame as he exited. As he went down the stairs, the pounding music resumed, and an annoyed puff of steam seeped out from his lips.

_____________________________

He wandered back to the kitchen, hoping to give Annie and Rabbit the update on just what Peter was up to, but found it vacant, except for a very tacky lava lamp inside a Amazon box on the counter.

“ _Must be that delivery Rabbit went to get.”_ he thought. Sighing, the automaton grabbed the package and looked at the offending item.

“Now this takes me back,” he muttered before dumping it into the trash can. “Good riddance to that decade.”

He began to walk away, hoping to find at least one of the two to brief on the situation, but felt something pull at the back of his shirt collar. He quickly turned to see various smokey, purple tendrils, snaking from the garbage and winding themselves around his legs. The Spine frowned at the strange appendages.

“This is what I mean about magic,” he sighed. “Unpredictable.” he shook his leg, causing several to recoil from it. More smoke began to seep out from the trash, curling upwards into a humanoid form.

“That wasn't very nice.” it chided in a high, breathy voice. A slit appeared in the vapour that made up it's face, almost as if the being was grinning.

“Well, I'm sorry, but I just don't have time for this at the moment,” the robot replied, turning back around. “I have things to do, please go back to your lamp.”

He took a step, but a sudden breeze kicked up, and the creature reformed in front of him.

“Now now, don't be like that!” it said. “I don't think you know what I am! My...you yourself are quite strange looking! I don't believe I've seen a creature like you before, and trust me, I've been around.”

The Spine rolled his eyes and let a little bit of steam escape his mouth. “I'm an automaton, and am fully aware of what you are and what you can do. Now, our haunted furniture quota is currently full, so if you could show yourself out, that'd be great.”

Unfortunately, the being didn't listen, instead chuckling and moving closer to his face. “An automaton? Now that's new, but not a problem! My abilities are not limited to any one species, you see, I like to think of myself as providing an equal opportunity service.”

The Spine swatted at it, disrupting the form, which quickly reassembled a few feet away. “That's great, but I don't need your services, and neither does anyone in this house.”

“Oh, come now,” it pouted. “I know that's not true! My species, we have this ability, a sort of mind reading, per se. We can see what people want, it helps us give it to them, very useful. You, for instance...” it closed its eyes, the tendrils slithering about.

“I don't want anything,” he grunted. “Now leave.”

The being giggled. “Oh, really? That box you've got in the back of your closet, the one with all the make up, seems to suggest otherwise.”

For a split second, he let his face drop, a slightly wistful look took over, but he quickly pulled the harsh one back up.

“That's none of your business,” he said. “Now leave.”

It came closer to him again, wrapping a limb around his arm. “But I can help you!”

“No thanks.”  
“Have you got a better plan on how to become human then?”

“Just go.”

The being frowned. “You're not being nice! I'm offering you a chance to get the body you've always wanted, no strings attached!”

“Well, my apologies, but I generally don't trust strange mist monsters that lives in lava lamps.” he tried to step forward, but the tentacles tightened, keeping him in place.

“How _dare_ you,” it growled, coming nose-to-nose with the robot. “I am offering to help you, and you're insulting me!?”

“Let me go,” he grunted. “I don't want to fight, I just want you to leave us alone.”

The form twisted upwards, doubling in size and glaring down at him. The Spine thrashed, trying to escape it's grip, steam nervously pouring from his smokestacks.

“Listen here, you ungrateful piece of scrap,” it hissed. “I don't care what you think you know, but I am the only thing that can make you human, and you're rejecting me? You have no right to turn me down when you spend so much time lusting for it!”

Steam poured out quicker, and The Spine nervously glanced around, looking for a way out. The creature was surprisingly strong for something composed of smoke, and he couldn't break out of it's grip. The wi-fi seemed like a good option, so he quickly composed a message in his head.

_Bit of a situation happening right now, could use some help._

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?” Just as he released the request, the being screamed. “How dare you treat me with so little respect! Do you know what I can do?”

“Look, if you calm down, maybe we can work this out.” he said, but the limbs tightened and he could have sworn he heard his metal creak.

“Oh, don't you even _try_ to act all reasonable,” it replied. “I am going to make you regret every single second of you existence!”

The Spine was not entirely sure what happened after that. He felt himself fall, a dull thunk sounding in the kitchen, and a throbbing pain in his chest. His photoreceptor began to flash huge warnings his view-field that he couldn't make out, and steam poured from every opening on his body. He tried to sit up, but his joints began to seize up, feeling as if they were being tied down. Oil began to leak from his eyes , nose, and ears, as well as bubbling up in his throat, dripping from his lips. His mind was stuck in an infinite loop of _“Oh god, oh god, what's wrong with me?”_ , but that was more likely due to panic than a mechanical failure.

He was vaguely aware of that damned creature's voice hissing in his ear, “Enjoy it while you can, you earned this.” but could barely process it. His mind was shutting down, the warnings becoming blurred but the pain still registering. Pulling as much of his coherency as he could, The Spine quickly tracked down the wi-fi signal's gentle pulse, not having been caught in the black out quite yet, and let his mantra seep into the connection as everything else closed off.

_Oh god, something's wrong with me, please, someone, I need help._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you for all of the positive responses! This fic has been my metaphorical baby for a while, so I am glad others are enjoying it as well!
> 
> I had a bit of trouble with this chapter, as I wasn't sure how gruesome I'd be willing to get, so I kept it vague. Also I will probably edit the 2nd half because I am not entirely happy with the pacing.

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings! I have had this fic on the back-burner for months and decided that today was the day I was finally going to post it! I have it planned out, but only this chapter and the second written, so I would appreciate feedback on if you are interested in more! However, I won't be able to post the second chapter for a few days as I am out of town until Sunday.
> 
> As for that body horror tag up there, I just want to explain that while this story may get a little graphic sometimes, it will not be over-the-top gore because my weak stomach can't handle too much, sadly.


End file.
